the fake headlines
Alpha

Today was a dream.

I tumble out of bed, unsure of how the morning arrived so soon. My thoughts are scattered, and the night prior still lingers in my blood. I hunt for the remainder of my belongings still scattered around the house, hiding behind a shroud of darkness. Under pressure from the clock and with my bags gathered, I wake up my siblings and give them the longest embrace I could muster. I walk out my back door for the last time. I inhale the crisp morning air. Above me stands the great warrior Orion, who greets me with the clearest sky I have ever seen. With tears obscuring my vision, I make my way into the car and watch as my home disappears from view.

The sun has yet to show, and yet my day has already begun.

I open my eyes again, and this time the sun streams through the cabin windows. Hiding behind the shutters is the City of Big Shoulders herself, silhouetted against the light of the sunrise peering from across the lake. Its various peaks command the horizon. And despite the sheering pain in my forehead, I can’t avert my gaze. It’s finally in my sights.

I’m still unsure how I ended up here. My longest Summer came and went, and in an instant I found myself peering up at the bold exteriors of the skyscrapers, breaking through the rainclouds. Familiarizing myself with the surroundings of my new home. And though I’ve never once set foot inside the Loop, it all seems strangely familiar. I’ve walked these streets before. But this time, I’m awake.

Welcome to Chicago.

Tangerine dreams

My first post could not have been more prophetic. New, content filled post soon.

Talk is cheap

Brett: what are you up to now?
Me: reddit, wikipedia
Brett: me too!
Brett: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bacchanalia
Me: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitsukejima
Me: my link is not surprising
Brett: is mine?
Me: you are a bacchanalian, so no
Brett: That’s not so
Me: you just don’t remember

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Nostalgia 2.0

As an 18-year old on his way to college, I’ve pretty much closed the book on my childhood. It was fairly typical: I grew up during prosperous times, and my parents did a good job at keeping me safe without coddling me. I made friends, scraped my knees, lost all my teeth, experienced disappointment and played too many video games. And I haven’t killed anyone yet, so by most accounts I turned out alright.

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Alienation is for the rich

This is the typical first post.

The first line is usually a simple greeting to an unestablished, nonexistent audience.

The second runs along the lines of “I followed a trend!”, in order to excuse the initial awkwardness, disappointment and inevitable apathy. Your expectations are high, surely.

Next, the author feels obligated to introduce themselves. The five people with enough interest to read the first post already know the author, and, unless the author advertises each new post as the nth coming of Jesus Christ, they are unlikely to return. But the author holds hope that someone, somewhere, is enticed by the author’s love of “being random,” “dogs,” “all music except rap and country” and “saying what I really think.” That someone, somewhere, will open their Facebook feed each day with a small lump of anticipation in their throat for the author’s next piece of glorious insight. Just maybe.

They promise to update every day, probably to tell you how much homework sucks or that Justin Bieber roxx. But by the end of the week, the author will have moved on and everyone will forget that this exercise in entrepreneurship even existed. After all, what are promises even worth anymore?

To conclude, the author thanks you because you probably wasted your time.

So ends the typical first post.